- My boys play football and love it.
- My youngest, 4, can backhand a frisbee perfectly. No ****. Like 30 feet. I didn’t perfect that technique until probably sophomore year of college. It’s the only way he’s every thrown - just a natural. Maybe make me some money some day?
- He also calls the frisbee a “crispy.” So he’ll be like, “hey daddy, want to go out back and do some crispies?!”, and I’m like, well yes, son, I do actually. Give me a crispy boy for this project. Hand grenade, yellow belly.
- My wife has 22 goddamned pairs of shoes laying around this house. It’s incredible.
- wish I could have joined in earlier this morning in real time for the folks listening to the Childers album for the first time. I like it. Unfortunately, I had **** to do. I always have **** to do, it seems. I hate having to do ****.
- These truly wealthy people who could otherwise retire but keep doing **** “because what else would I do,” “I would get bored,” “I would lose my edge!”, etc., are sociopaths. You mean you can’t find anything else to do besides goddamned work?? What maniacs.